Behind the Closed Doors of the Order
by Wade Scott
Summary: Scenes from a year in the life of Nymphadora Tonks. What's it like to be an Auror, member of the Order, and falling in love with a man roughly 12 years your senior? Enquiring minds want to know.
1. The Morning After

"Rough night last night?" I passed him a cup of hot tea.

"Been worse." He muttered.

"I'll take your word on that." I poured some tea for myself and sat down. "My God, Remus, you look like hell."

Indeed he did. He was quite pale, with dark purple shadows under his eyes. He looked tired, worn. On days like this, he looked so much older than mid-thirties. Not so much physically older, but spiritually older. I was sitting across from an old, tired man.

"Feel it, too. Y'know, after all these years, you'd think I'd get used to the full moon. Remembering to take my potion, settling down in my room for the monthly transformation, feeling like I've got a nasty hangover the next day…" He sighed and looked into the distance. "It just reminds me of how different I am. Less than human. Lonely."

"Maybe you should start a support group. Werewolves Anonymous." I quipped.

He just stared forlornly into his cup. Damn, and I was trying to be funny.

I tried another tactic. "I don't know what you're so worked up over. Really, you're not the only one who turns into a full-fledged monster on a lunar cycle."

His brow furrowed. "Look, I don't think I'm in the mood for any sort of 'Let's cheer up Lupin' attempt…"

I waved him off. "No, seriously, Remus. You don't have any sisters, do you?"

He shook his head.

"Steady, long-term girlfriends?"

Another shake.

"Ah, you lucky bastard. You have absolutely no idea what I am talking about. So let me educate you." Oh, this should be amusing. Men just _love_ this little speech.

"Okay. Now I know you've been through Madam Pomfrey's absolutely embarrassing discussion on the birds and the bees. Unless you were sick that day?"

He chuckled. "No, unfortunately I was not. Certainly wished I was at the time, though."

"Didn't we all. Now, dear sweet Poppy might have informed us on the more, shall I say, _technical_ workings of the body, but there is no way in hell to warn a woman of the more dramatic chaos she'll be dealing with for the next thirty or so years of her life."

I think I got his attention. He was looking at me with a rather curious expression. His head was tilted to one side and his eyes were no longer morose. They were… interested? I wasn't really used to this reaction from a guy. Usually they were falling all over themselves to exit the conversation. Then again, most of the guys I knew were barely out of adolescence.

I took a deep breath. "It starts with the mood swings. One minute you're ecstatic, feeling fine. The next minute you're angry, and any little thing sets you off. Or you're depressed and find yourself at the bottom of the ice cream carton. Lather, rinse, repeat. That's when the monster awakens. More tea?"

"Uh, yes, please," he said, passing me his cup. "Better yet, do we have any coffee around here? I think I could use something stronger this morning." Chuckling, I started the coffee.

"But that's not even the beginning of it," I continued as the pot percolated. "Then come the pheromones. You can literally smell men a mile away, and they smell _good_. You find yourself thinking of and hoping for things no civilized woman would ever admit to. That's when I know I'm in trouble—usually I lock myself away for a bit, try to sleep it off. Last thing I need to do is someone I'll really regret in the morning, know what I mean?"

That definitely got a laugh. "Not personally, thank Merlin. But I've heard a few good stories."

"I bet. There are some aspects of Sirius' life that I don't want to be privy to. Milk? Sugar?" I raised my eyebrows and rattled the sugar shaker playfully.

"After the night I've just had? Hell no, I want it black." He smiled appreciatively as I poured the coffee. "I love the smell of black, sludgy, cheap coffee in the morning." Deep inhale. "It's the smell of victory."

I laughed out loud. "Unfortunately, it's downhill from there. Bloating, achiness, cramps, blah, blah, blah." Another dismissive wave. "Almost like your body's disappointed for what you _didn't_ do and punishing you for it." I went to pour some sugar in my coffee and dropped the damn shaker. "Oh, and I almost forgot. You lose all sense of motor control and get more clumsy."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Is that even possible for you?"

"Ha, ha," I muttered sarcastically. "_Reparo!_" The shards flew back together. Handy charm, if I do say so myself. "Yeah, usually lasts a week, week and a half. Then it's another couple weeks of peace until the cycle starts again." I paused for emphasis. "And that, Remus John Lupin, are the facts of life," I said in mock seriousness. "Does that make you feel any better?"

He smiled. "Not really, but educational and amusing just the same. Thank you, Tonks."

"Oh please, call me Nymphadora."

Laughter. "No thanks, I think I like living too much to try that."

I looked down at my watch. "Bloody hell! I'm running late!" I stood up so quickly the chair I was sitting in fell over and I bumped the table, knocking everything over. "Damn!"

Remus stood up and began cleaning up my mess. "Don't worry about it," he said, standing and pushing my hands away from the spilled cups. "I'll take care of it. You just get to work."

"Oh, thank you so much." I sighed.

"Not a problem," he replied as I double checked to make sure I had everything. Wand? Check. Identification? Check. Hair? Pink and spiky. Check.

I started walking towards the door. "Oh, Tonks?" He called after me. I paused and turned around. He had a playful smirk on his face. "And what stage of the cycle are _you_ at now?"

I grinned. "Well, let's just say that you're starting to look _really_ good, Remus." As if to prove my point, I lifted my head and inhaled deeply, gave him a wink, and turning towards the door, laughed as I left for work.

888

Here I was, pulling a double. Around a quarter after nine, I found myself drumming my fingers on the desk in a fit of immense boredom. I had no idea why my boss thought I still needed to be here. He probably just wanted to get home to his family, and since Tonks is single, Tonks can stay late. Bastard. Maybe Tonks wanted to go out and party and get un-single. Did he think of that? No. There was absolutely nothing going on today. In fact, there hasn't been anything going on for a long time. After all, it's impossible to be a Dark Wizard catcher when the Ministry doesn't even want to admit that certain Dark Wizards are back in action. I desperately wanted to go visit with Kingsley, also working the evening shift, but I knew that would be too suspicious. We had to keep it on the down low that we knew each other any better than random co-workers, for the sake of the Order. I laughed every time I thought about Kingsley's job; he came in every day on the hunt for Sirius Black, and every evening he stopped by Grimmauld Place and ate dinner with the Ministry's Most Wanted. Fortunately, I had the greatest excuse in the world to bow out of that particular charade. I simply told them that I might be biased in searching for my mother's cousin. After all, I may be able to change my appearance at the drop of a hat, but sometimes I'm a horrible actress.

I leaned back in my chair and threw my feet up on my desk. Come to think of it, the Order was about the only thing going on in my life. I was one of the youngest members, only the Weasley brothers being younger, and I was still trying to get used to referring to people on a first-name basis. Especially the stern Minerva McGonnagal, who I never even considered to have any other name but "Professor." And despite the dark and dreary headquarters, hanging around ol' Number Twelve was quite fun. Afterall, the Weasleys were there, slaving away under the watchful eye of Ma Weasley, and wherever those kids go adventure is sure to follow. Then there was Sirius, the staple of my childhood. Man, I hero-worshipped him growing up. I'm sure he got quite tired of having a bratty cousin either trying to tag along or corner him into a tea party whenever he came by.

Speaking of tea parties, I wondered how Remus was feeling. Since he spends about as much time at headquarters as I do, I've run into him a lot. He's sharp as a tack and got a very quiet, yet very wicked sense of humour. Like this morning…

I felt myself falling backwards as the legs of my chair tried to give way underneath me. I must have been nodding off. Well, I might as well make good use of my lack of activity. I stood up, intent on visiting the break room for another round of coffee. And maybe a doughnut. I laughed at myself as I remembered my father telling me about Muggle policemen and their stereotypical love of doughnuts and coffee. I have now become the Wizarding equivalent to the lazy cop. I just hoped I didn't develop the gut.

I stepped out of the elevator and headed down the hall. As I passed the Improper Use of Magic office, I overheard a very important name: Harry Potter. My blood ran cold. All of us in the Order have been keeping tabs on Harry all summer so far. Although Dumbledore was confident in the protection he had established for Harry since he was an infant, he wanted extra caution now that Voldemort was back.

"That's right, improper use of a Patronus charm by an underage wizard in the presence of a Muggle. Second offence against the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery. Mafalda, please send notice to him. Inform him of his expulsion from school and that we'll be by to confiscate his wand."

Expulsion? Confiscate wand? Damn. I needed to get to Dumbledore, but how? He's not the most popular of people around here at the moment. The floo network usually isn't watched at this time of the night. Probably my best bet. I sprinted back to the lift and jammed at the buttons. Damned old piece of junk anyway. It rattled violently as it took me to the main entrance to the Ministry. I was out of the doors as soon as they opened and grabbed the floo powder at the nearest fireplace. Throwing it into the grate, I barely waited for the green flames before I threw my head inside and yelled, "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place!" It was Arthur Weasley who noticed me first.

"Tonks? What—"

I cut him off. "It's an emergency, Arthur. I need Dumbledore here at the ministry and I need him now. It's about Harry."

Arthur's eyes widened in alarm. "I'll contact him immediately. He may already know what's going on. Dung is trailing Harry tonight."

"Well, from the way this sounds, Dung wasn't doing a good job of it." Mundungus Fletcher wasn't always known for being responsible. "If you do get him first, tell him to find me. I'll see what I can do on this end until he gets here."

I jerked my head out of the fire. In the lift, I scrambled to figure out something to do to delay the Ministry enforcement that was about to leave at any minute. And I thought today was going to be boring.


	2. Nightmares

I tossed the towel down onto the counter after yet another round of dishes. I managed to only break one this time. I don't know why I volunteer to help with the cleaning. I generally end up just making more of a mess than what I started with.

I wandered upstairs in hopes of finding some company. As I passed the door of the study, I noticed Remus sitting in the armchair, absorbed in a rather thick book. I debated whether or not I wanted to disturb him. Stupid girl, wanting to disrupt someone simply for a bit of attention. However, I paused at the doorway anyway, watching him. He seemed completely relaxed, perched cross-legged in the chair, and his shoes were on the floor in front of him as if he had sloppily kicked them off. I could see his toes through his threadbare socks. One elbow rested on his knee, his head in his hand. His other arm was wrapped around the book, turning pages. He looked almost child-like, his eyes eagerly scanning the pages. It was, well, rather cute.

Cute? Stupid girl, quit showing your age.

"Hello, Tonks," he said without looking up. I jumped. His voice had broken my silence and startled me.

"Er…hello," I replied. "I didn't mean to…I mean, I thought I was being quiet…"

"Don't worry, you were very quiet. I didn't hear you at all."

"Then how did you know I was here?"

Still not looking up, he tapped the side of his nose with a slight smile. "One of the few perks of being a werewolf. I have a wicked sense of smell."

"Oh." I didn't know what to do now. "Well then, sorry to disturb you." I turned to leave when he called me back.

"Please, join me."

With one graceful swoop he marked his place and closed his book. The then turned his head and attention to me and waited.

"Well, if you're sure…" I mumbled hesitantly.

"Absolutely."

I crossed into the room and threw myself onto the couch. I flipped my now long hair over the side and laid my head on the armrest.

"A blonde today, I see."

"Yeah," I replied. "They tell me blondes have more fun."

"And?"

"I have yet to prove them right." I joked. An amused smile was his only reply. "Whatcha reading?" I asked.

"Research. A Guide to Werewolf Communities of Britain and Ireland," he said, holding the book up for me to see. "A very interesting read, really. Although I'm curious to know how they got so much information on werewolves, considering we're a pretty serious threat to humans during a full moon."

Good point. "Research for what?" I asked.

"Well Tonks, you would be proud to know that I took your advice seriously."

"You've found yourself a girlfriend! Oh Remus, I'm so proud of you! Who's the lucky lady?" I teased.

"Unfortunately, not that advice. Your other advice. About founding a werewolf support group," he laughed. "Dumbledore thought it was a good idea, too. After our slight setback with the giants, we thought of working on some other 'dark creatures' we might have a tie with."

It didn't take a Mediwizard to see where this was going. "So you're looking at an undercover mission."

"Precisely. Because of the advances made with Wolfsbane, I'm able to keep my rational head during the moon even though I still transform. I still look the part, but I'm a little less dangerous to the public," he explained.

"But from what I know about werewolves, feral or not, they tend to run in packs. You can't just walk right into one, say, 'Hey, my name is Remus and I'm looking for a good time," and leave it at that." Not that I didn't trust his judgement, or Dumbledore's, either, but even seasoned Hit-Wizards know to respect werewolves, feral or not. "No offense, but do you really think you're up to that kind of spy work?"

He was very pensive. "To be honest, I don't know. Because I don't associate with other werewolves, I have little to no idea what to expect—or what they'll expect of me. Hence the background reading. I figure, at the very worst, I can play the part of a recent convert looking to 'find out who I am' or something. My ignorance might just be a benefit."

"Or it might kill you."

"Well, unless you know of any other werewolves who moonlight as wizards—no pun intended—it's the chance I have to take."

"True." I considered the possibilities of what he might be getting himself into. I went to school for years to learn the basics of undercover work, and this poor sod was getting himself thrown into it with as much help as 'James Bond for Dummies.' "Look, Remus, I'm not going to sugar-coat this. You're going to be in way over your head." I was worried. "Tell you what, I'll do what I can to help you out. The Ministry's been tracking werewolf activity for years, thanks to our good friend Delores Umbridge. I'll see what I can dig up for you to help you prepare. Okay?"

He smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Tonks. I'm going to need all the help I can get."

"Damn straight you are. Who's going to be making your potion for you?"

"I reckon Dumbledore will ask Severus to do it. He is the Potions Master, after all."

I frowned. For some reason, Severus Snape left a bad taste in my mouth. "And you trust Snape to do this for you?"

"I trust Severus Snape as one soldier has to trust another," he answered slowly. I nodded in understanding. "But do I believe he's loyal to the Order and not to Voldemort? I have no idea. And I know I'm not one of his favorite people. But," he shrugged in resignation, "until I have reason not to, I trust him because Dumbledore does." He paused thoughtfully. "But do I have a backup plan? You bet I do."

"I should hope so." Snape's feelings toward Remus were no secret. It was easy to draw the line from Snape to Malfoy to Umbridge's legislation two years ago--shortly after Remus' resignation from Hogwarts. "Personally, I take the Moody 'Trust No One' approach." I grinned wickedly, bulged one eye, and barked, "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

We both laughed. Although Alastor Moody is a man who commands respect, his paranoia is the stuff of legends. And cheap, pot-shot jokes.

Our laughter must have drawn attention, because I heard footsteps in the hall. Molly poked her head into the study. I immediately sat up on the couch. I don't know what it was, but that woman was so much a mother that she didn't need to say a word to make me feel guilty for putting my feet on the furniture.

"Sorry," she said. "I just heard voices and wondered who was still here. I take it you're both staying the night then?" We both nodded. "Oh good. Well, I'm going to bed now. You both have a good night." As she turned to leave, I thought I caught a faint twinkle in her eyes. It was almost mischievous.

"You know, that sounds like an excellent idea," Remus yawned. "I think I'll turn in as well. See you in the morning, Tonks." He gathered up his shoes and books and left me sitting on the couch.

Come to think of it, bed was a damn good idea. Tomorrow was going to be a long day. Afterall, tomorrow was the All-England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition.

888

I awoke out of a dead sleep. Was that screaming I heard? I listened carefully. It was, and it was coming from the floor above me. What on earth was going on? There's nobody up there except…

Sirius.

What the hell is going on?

I bolted out of bed. Unfortunately, I was still tangled in the bedcovers and fell facedown on the floor. Shit. I struggled for a minute before I freed myself and tore from my room to the staircase and to the top floor. I rounded the hallway to find not only Sirius' door already open, but that Remus had beat me there.

It wasn't a pretty scene, either. Remus was trying to hold down a frantically thrashing Sirius, who was screaming at the top of his lungs. To be honest, I didn't even recognize him. It was as if I had stepped into one of those horribly cliché Muggle horror flicks, watching as the mad scientist performed ungodly experiments on helpless people. Except there was no mad scientist. There was only torture. Sirius' eyes were wide open, haunted and full of fear. His face was absolutely drained of color and contorted by the panic controlling him. Soaked in his own sweat, hair matted and clinging to his face and neck, he tore at the bedcovers around him, trying to free himself from…

"Is he awake?" I asked.

"No, he's not," Remus responded quickly. "Listen, I need you to get me a couple of cold washcloths and the chocolate from my bedside table. And will you please take that bloody chicken into another room and calm him before he wakes the entire house!"

I sprinted back downstairs to the bathroom, where I found a stack of clean washcloths (thank you, Molly Weasley, domestic goddess!), and wet them hurriedly. On my way back, I found the other open bedroom door, grabbed a chunk of chocolate from the table, and whipped back up the stairs. As I re-entered the room, Remus pinned Sirius down by kneeling on his chest and deftly caught the linens and chocolate I threw to him. I then whirled around to face a very frightened hippogriff.

Thank Merlin he was tied up.

Buckbeak was stomping his legs and beating his wings fiercely. Not to mention trying to free himself from the rope around his huge neck. I put my two fingers in my mouth and whistled, hoping that would get his attention. As he turned one orange eye towards me, I bowed low.

"Come on, Beaky. It's only Tonks. You're going to be okay, everything's okay, it's only me," I sang soothingly.

He seemed to respond and calm himself. Well, enough for me to get close enough to untie him without one of those massive wings knocking me out. I pulled him out of the room and down the hall. I continued to sing quietly to him as I petted his head until he had stopped thrashing about. I cautiously opened the door to my left, found that the room was empty, and tied him in it.

By the time I got back to Sirius' room, he had stopped thrashing and closed his eyes, though he was still whimpering. Remus was sitting on the bed with Sirius' head in his lap, sponging his face, neck, and upper chest with the washcloths.

"He thinks he's still in Azkaban," he explained. "Being back in this house reminds him of it. It's as if he's still surrounded by Dementors. I guess in his head, he still is." I thought he was about to cry, his eyes were so full of concern and sadness. I was touched by the care he was giving his friend.

"So he does this often?" I asked.

Nodding, he folded one of the remaining cloths on Sirius' head and reached for the chocolate. "This looks incredibly humiliating, but I've found it's best not to wake him. Not only does waking him startle him even more, but it also embarrasses him. I've found this works better." And with that, he placed the tip of the chocolate bar in his friend's mouth with one hand, and gently stroked his cheek with the other. Just like an infant's instinctive response, Sirius started sucking on the chocolate.

"I'm lucky he's such a heavy sleeper. He'd kill me if he knew what I was doing," he told me. He added, "But it's the only way to calm him."

After a bit, Sirius fell back into a more restful sleep. He removed the chocolate and washcloth and motioned for me to come to him. He handed them to me and said, "I'm going to change him out of these wet clothes. Would you mind taking care of these for me?" I nodded and numbly left the room. On the landing, I paused and leaned my head on the cool stone. I dropped what I was holding and raised my hands to my face. I couldn't get his eyes out of my head. Those empty, haunted eyes. The terrors that they were looking into. Twelve years of this. He had been through twelve years of absolute hell for nothing. My heart was pounding.

My numbness turned to anger. He was an innocent man who was now back in Azkaban, locked away in his own mind with memories of darkness and pain as his only friends. An innocent man who was never going to be acquitted in his sleep. My head was throbbing.

I wanted to rage. A man murdered by Dementors. Twelve years. A life taken with no hope of return. Those eyes. Those tormented, hollow eyes. Staring hell in the face. No hope of atonement, no hope of a redemption not needed. No hope. How could this happen? Where was the justice in this? My blood was boiling.

I wanted to…I wanted to just…

CRACK!

I rammed my fist into the wall. It hurt, but not nearly enough. I wanted to hurt on the outside as much as I hurt on the inside. We had lost a best friend. A brother. I continued beating on the wall. I couldn't hit it hard enough, I couldn't scream loud enough. Images of what I just witnessed closed in on me. The staring eyes. The sweaty, matted hair. The man who would never have his life back. The man with only the shadow of a soul.

Somewhere in the middle of my blinding pain I felt someone grab me and try to stop me from beating on the wall.

"How dare you! How dare you take him from us!" I screamed. I don't know who I was really talking to, but I kept fighting anyway. I turned to face my attacker. I now wanted someone else to hurt as much as I did. I kept screaming and punching until I was exhausted, when I felt someone's arms wrap around me, and sobbing, I fell to the floor.

It was only then did I realize where I was and what I was doing. I started taking deep breaths to calm my racking sobs and looked up.

"Feel better now?" Remus asked me. He was kneeling next to me, sporting a bleeding lip and a torn, bloodstained shirt.

I nodded, starting to feel ashamed. I looked down at my hands. They were swollen and bleeding freely. I realized that was my blood on his shirt.

"Here, let me look at those," he said softly, gently taking my hands in his. He examined them. When he got to the knuckles on my left hand, I winced and pulled them back. "Just what I thought," he continued. "Broken. Come with me, I'll help you fix it up. Oh, you might want to wrap your hands in this." He pulled off his shirt and wrapped it around my hands to stem the bleeding. I noticed big, red welts on his chest where I must have hit him. I felt even worse.

He helped me up and I followed him to the bathroom. "Have a seat and I'll be right back." I obeyed. When he returned with his wand and some bandages, I was grateful to see he had put on another shirt. Those welts looked like they hurt. He expertly washed my cuts and bandaged my left hand. "Now, I'm not the best at this, but I think it will be okay," he apologized as he tapped my hand with his wand. I could feel the stabbing pain turn into an ache as my bones mended.

"Thanks," I mumbled weakly. "Look, I'm really sorry…I don't know what got into me…"

"Don't worry about it," he cut me off. "I had a similar reaction the first time, too. It's a hard thing to take." He paused. "Sometimes you have to bleed. It reminds you that you're still alive."

"Is this why you've been staying here so much?" I asked him quietly.

He nodded as he sank onto the edge of the bathtub next to me. "I know it isn't much, but I think it helps to have company in the house. Keeps him distracted during the day."

We sat lost in our thoughts for a few more minutes. I finally broke the silence. "I'm really sorry if I hurt you."

He turned to me and smiled slightly. "Don't worry about it, Tonks. Just don't tell anybody that I got beat up by a girl. I have a reputation to keep," he teased. "Listen. Everything will be just fine tomorrow. But for now, you need to get some sleep. All right?"

I nodded, still staring down at the floor. He helped me up and walked me back to my room. It wasn't until we were at the door that I finally looked up into his face. "Thanks, Remus," I said simply.

"Good night, Tonks." He smiled. "Oh. Eat this. It'll help." He handed me a piece of chocolate he pulled from his pocket. Then he turned and walked down the hall.

In the morning, I woke to the smell of bacon. Molly must be up and cooking breakfast. I dressed carefully, nursing my still aching hand, and wandered downstairs. Remus was right. I was feeling much better after my little catharsis.

"Good morning dear," Molly greeted me. Then she spotted my hand. "What on earth happened to you?" she asked.

She must have slept right through all the commotion last night. It was just as well. "Oh, I fell out of bed and hit my nightstand," I lied. "Clumsy me!"

Molly had a very piercing eye. But if she suspected anything, she didn't say so. "I'm sorry, dear. Well, eat up. I suppose the kids will be down any minute."

"Thanks," I mumbled as I poured myself some coffee. Soon after I sat down, Remus came down the stairs.

"Mmmm…bacon," he said hungrily as he kissed Molly on the cheek.

I was surprised to see her blush slightly. "And good morning to you, too, Remus," she said. He helped himself to some coffee, too, and swiped a few pieces of fried pig. With a knowing smile and a wink, he settled himself down across the table from me. As he reached across the table for the sugar, I could see him wince slightly. I hoped Molly hadn't noticed.

Not a chance. "Remus? Are you okay?" she asked sternly.

"Fine, Molly, fine. I just slept wrong last night. Nothing but a few aches in these old bones of mine," he answered lightly. I guess after raising seven children, Ma Weasley knew when she was being lied to. She gave him one of her I'll-let-you-get-away-with-that-for-now-but-guarantee-I'll-find-out-what-really-happened looks.

I decided to change the subject. "Everything ready for Harry tonight?" I asked.

"Everything's a go on this end," answered Remus. He was in charge of the rescue mission.

"I'll be so glad once he's finally here," Molly commented as she finally stopped bustling around and took a sip of tea. "I hate having to send him to that nasty Muggle family every year." Her face darkened significantly.

Remus sighed. "I know, but it keeps him safe for another year. Now if we can just sort out this mess with the Ministry…"

"I'm sure it will be fine. Fudge may be an ass, but even he has to follow the law, and the law is on Harry's side," I shrugged. "And speaking of the salt mines, it's time for me to go and join the rest of the drones. See you all at six." I very carefully carried my cup to the sink, and with the standard good-byes, left for work.

Later in the day I decided to take the bandages off. I was starting to feel better and I was getting tired of making excuses for why I was injured. As I flexed my hand, I thought that Remus Lupin would have made a damn good healer. Not only were all of my bones intact, but there was only a slight redness to my knuckles. It was hard to believe that they were raw and bloody just twelve hours ago.

I felt a strange pull in my middle as I thought of last night. His hands were so gentle as they held mine. Mine were so small in comparison. And how he so carefully wrapped the bandages around them. And his eyes, so quiet and full of concern…

I shook my head. "Stop being so silly," I muttered to myself. Still, I couldn't help but think of his tenderness. And he's going undercover to the werewolves? I sure hope he's a damn good actor. Because if they see any weakness in him like I saw last night, they'll rip him limb from limb.

i A/N: Thanks for wading through Chapter Two. I would like to take this time to officially state my intentions with this story. As I poked around HP fanfiction, I was amused to find the Lupin/Tonks pairing alluded to frequently. And it made sense to me...but why? I wanted to try to explore what it was about these two that somehow fit together. Plus, it was fun to flush out other Order member's personalities and how Tonks would relate to them, as well. Hence the ordeal with Sirius. i


	3. Politics

"Smarmy git."

"Oh, he's worse than a smarmy git, Mason," I swirled my coffee as I eyed Malfoy. "He's a smarmy git with lots of gold." He was becoming a regular guest here at the Ministry, peering down his nose at everybody as he shakes his tinkling pockets and ducks into Fudge's office. Forget Big Oil, the real special interest group in politics is Voldemort's Death Eaters.

"Lucius Malfoy, the poster child for wizarding pride. Makes me want to snap my wand in half and join the Muggle race," Mason spat. I could only nod in agreement. Overall, I liked Mason Maeda. He was an older Auror, who had seen more than his fair share of action out on the streets. And like Moody, he had the scars, and the twitch, to prove it. While he was a very loyal man with a deeply rooted sense of right and wrong, I always thought he was a bit daft. Especially when it came to his wife, Evelyn. Simply attending the annual Auror Christmas Party would tell you that she had absolutely no love for the man. She literally recoils from his touch. I felt bad for him—he deserved much better, but he simply didn't believe it. Today I was assigned to work with Mason. We had both decided that our daily assignment was received best after a round of caffeine.

I sipped at my coffee and sighed deeply. "Tell me about it. And to think, I'm related to him."

"Only by marriage."

"Yeah, but it's close enough to make me want to wash the filth from myself." I commented, and Mason chuckled. "And I don't want to claim either of my dear Aunties, either." Everybody knew my family tree, but fortunately, they didn't fault me for it. Lucius must have felt his ears burning, because he turned toward us and gave us a haughty glare before he disappeared down the stairway after Fudge.

With nothing left to see, we turned down the opposite hallway and headed back to the office. "So what do you reckon?" Mason asked.

"About what?"

"About You-Know-Who being back?" he replied. I thought for a moment how best to answer him. Here at the Ministry, I had to be careful what I said about the supposed "rumor" that Voldemort was back. Fudge had made it clear that anyone associated with Dumbledore could count on a sacking…if not a free trip to the Azkaban Resort. Scrimgeour had been asking too many questions of Kingsley and I, but Mason didn't seem the suspicious type. Or a loyal Fudge supporter. His seemed like an honest question.

"I don't know, to tell you the truth," I lied. "I was still fairly young that Halloween Vol—You-Know-Who disappeared."

Mason nodded in understanding. "Those were some dark and troubled times. It was hell being an Auror. Couldn't tell if witches and wizards were acting of their own free will, or were cursed into unwilling servitude. Like that Malfoy there," he added with a growl.

"Yeah, I've read his file. Said he was under the Imperius the entire time." I paused. "What do you think, Mason?" I prompted.

His face got darker. "Don't believe it, myself. Moody and I saw too much from him. But the sneaky bastard was too slippery for us. Couldn't pin anything on him."

"And now?" I prompted again.

"Off the record? He's hanging around here too much for my liking. Getting too chummy with Fudge. Something just isn't right, and I can't help but wonder if the rumors are true."

"So riddle me this, Mason: Everyone in magical law enforcement knows Malfoy is a loyal Death Eater, but can't do anything about it. Why?" I asked.

He smiled ruefully. "Welcome to politics, Tonks." His face contorted even more. "And I don't like the looks of Malfoy's greasy friend, either. What's that bugger's name?…works at Hogwarts…dark hair, lanky…" Mason continued.

"Snape?"

"Yeah, that's the fellow. Always poking into my wife's potions shop, sneering and making snarky comments," Mason growled. "At least I can keep an eye on him there."

I thought he'd make better use of his time keeping an eye on his wife, but there was no way I was going to tell him that. Instead, I bit my tongue and hoped that I never found myself in a relationship where my husband wouldn't care if I came home or not.

We walked back up the hall to the office when Mason asked, "So, what happened with that Podmore fellow, anyway? I heard he was trying to break through a door to the Department of Mysteries late at night? Strange, eh?" I didn't have time to answer before we approached the assignment board. He reached out a gnarled hand to pull the parchment from the wall. As his eyes scanned the notice, he let out a muffled, "Huh."

"What?"

"Well, what do you know. Speak of the devil…" He handed the paper to me. I read it with bated breath.

We were investigating Sturgis Podmore.

888

"Well, it's lucky you were assigned to him, then, wasn't it?" Hestia piped up. I didn't know which was worse—being named Hestia or Nymphadora. I guessed that since Hestia actually uses her name, it must be Nymphadora.

"Yeah, I have all the luck. I wish I could say it made a difference," I replied dejectedly. "Although he did look relieved to see a friendly face. But there really wasn't much to be done without compromising the Order or wildly accusing Malfoy of Unforgivables."

"Even if it i is i true," Sirius growled under his breath. Nobody noticed.

"You did the right thing, Tonks," Arthur pointed out. "It's probably better for Sturgis to just keep his mouth shut and do the time."

"I believe you're right, Arthur," Dumbledore interjected. "Unfortunately, there is nothing we can do for him at this point. We will simply all need to be more vigilant while on guard duty; not only for ourselves, but too keep our eyes open for other plans Voldemort might have. And where Lucius' wand is pointing." I heard Moody mutter something about losing his best Invisibility Cloak before Dumbledore continued. "Thanks for your report, Tonks. Now onto the next order of business…Remus, any news on the werewolf front?"

"Well, as I'm sure we can all guess, our good friend Umbridge…" he scowled as he said her name, "…has given the werewolf world a unified pink slip thanks to her registration laws. This discrimination, as well as the accompanying poverty, has divided us into two groups: the drunk and the bitter."

"Three groups, Remus," Emmeline interrupted. "The drunk, the bitter, and the Order."

Remus bowed his head in acknowledgement of her compliment, and continued. "I'm not as worried about the drunks as I am the bitter ones," Remus sighed. "The Ministry has practically handed them over to Voldemort, ripe for the picking. They sound ready for revenge."

Dumbledore nodded his understanding. "I figured as much."

"Tonks has volunteered to help me get Ministry files on the more…watched werewolves in Britain."

"I haven't had much time to look, honestly." I apologized.

"Good luck getting those files," Kingsley interjected. "Those are level three clearance. I can't even touch them."

I grinned wickedly. "That's because you're not a woman who can change her appearance at will, Kingsley. One leggy blonde, coming up!" I threw my legs up on the table, letting my robes fall to a scandalous mid-thigh and concentrated on morphing some long, blonde hair. Wiggling my toes, I asked Kingsley, "You don't suppose Dawlish is a i happily i married man, do you?"

Bill choked on his butterbeer as Molly gasped in shock, "Tonks!"

Bill had barely contained his laughter when he commented, "Maybe you out to forget about Dawlish and move straight on to Moony there. I bet he could use some level three clearance."

"I don't know, Bill," I replied hotly. "Not every guy prefers his blondes half his age."

Bill reddened as Molly gasped again. "Bill!"

"Brunettes, actually," Remus commented. "I prefer brunettes."

Sirius eyed him suspiciously. "I thought it was redheads."

"Sorry, Padfoot, that was you."

"Oh yeah, I forgot," Sirius murmured, smiling and staring off into space dreamily.

By now the room was rolling with laughter. Except Snape, of course, who was glowering at the undignified mirth. I waggled my eyebrows at him and blew him a kiss, only to be rewarded with a glare. However, from the opposite end of the table, Sirius was laughing so hard tears were rolling down his cheeks. Remus grinned at me.

Dumbledore brought the meeting back to focus by clearing his throat. "I think, Nymphadora, you should try more u ethical u means of obtaining said information…" I returned my legs under the table, returned my hair to pink, and lowered my head in mock shamefulness. "…At first," He added. Although he was giving me a stern look over his glasses, his eyes were twinkling.

"Yes sir," I replied obediently.

"Well everybody, I believe that is all for now," Dumbledore concluded. There was a rustling of parchment as everyone gathered his or her notes and belongings. "As you know, school is back in session and finding opportunities to slip away from Hogwarts will be few and far between. Please continue with your assignments and contact me if there are any developments." With that, the meeting adjourned and everyone filed out of the kitchen.

"Bill has a point, you know," Sirius whispered in my ear. I could tell from the mirth in his voice that he was smirking.

"Get stuffed, Sirius," I retorted. Truth is, the whole subject made me…uncomfortable.

"Going home then?" he asked.

"Yeah, Mum's coming by in the morning. Breakfast and shopping. Girl stuff," I answered.

"Give her my love. And take care of yourself." He paused for a moment. "You know you're welcome here anytime, right?"

I could hear the loneliness in his voice. "I know, Sirius," I answered softly as I put my hand on his arm. "I'll come and visit more, I promise."

He seemed embarrassed by our tender exchange and forced a comical smile. "I mean, even if you aren't going to give Moony any sort of clearance…"

I crinkled my nose at him and punched him in the shoulder. "Why should I, when he's got you?" Sirius' eyebrows knitted together at the insinuation I had made. "I'll see you later, cousin." As I left, his mouth was still working to find a proper retort.

_A/N: Okay, so obviously Mason and Evelyn aren't cannon. They actually belong to my friend Jenny, who needs to post her story for everybody here to enjoy. _


	4. Title of Liberty

We were watchful as the kids dragged their trunks and pets through the snow and inside Hogwarts grounds. Only after they reached safety did we relax.

"You know, there is something very special to me about this school," Remus said. He had a wistful look about him.

"Oh yeah?" I prompted. I knew that everybody loved Hogwarts, myself included, but there seemed to be something more to this story and I keen on hearing it.

"First of all, this is the place where I found acceptance—friends who lightened my burdens. And a headmaster who not only educated me when even my parents had given up on me because of—" he trailed off.

"Your condition?" I supplied.

"My condition." I couldn't help but hear a note of disgust in his voice at that statement. "Anyway, later he gave me perhaps the most fulfilling job of my life. And although you wouldn't think so if you looked at all the rules I broke as a student here, this is where I learned how to take responsibility for who I am. How to accept myself." He paused, then continued in a very subdued voice. "I guess you could say that Albus Dumbledore saved me from myself. I have boundless respect for him."

I nodded in agreement. I loved the headmaster as well, but could only imagine what growing up Lupin must have been like and how Dumbledore fit into all of it.

He stared at the castle for about a minute more and then turned to me with a slight smile. "Well, enough of my reminiscing. We should probably get back then, you think?"

"Yeah, probably," I sighed. "Only it's such a nice day and I really don't have anywhere to be for a bit. Not to mention that riding that Knight Bus makes me queasy." Stan was standing in the bus' doorway, impatiently waiting for us to re-board. "For that matter, so does Stan," I added in a whisper. "Mind if we walk for a while?"

"I think that's an excellent idea." He waved off the bus and its very disgruntled operator.

We walked in silence for a while. "You really enjoyed teaching, didn't you."

He looked down at the ground in defeat. "I did," he admitted. But his lips curved into a smile. "My favorite moment was teaching the third years boggarts. Severus has never forgiven me for that one."

I turned my head in surprise. "Severus? Snape?"

There was a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "Neville Longbottom's greatest fear. But I assure you, he's not so frightening in drag."

I could only imagine. "I'll have to remember that next Order meeting," I murmured.

The mischievous look was replaced with a very wicked one. "I have a hard time looking at him and keeping a straight face anymore. I always see him with a red handbag."

I couldn't help but smile at the thought. Soon the only sound was our feet crunching in the snow. Despite the silence, I plucked up the courage to ask about something I had been thinking about for a while.

"Speaking of boggarts, Molly told me about how easily you handled that boggart in the drawing room."

"She did?" He sounded curiously surprised that we would be discussing him. "Why?"

"Well, I sort of coaxed it out of her the next day," I admitted and flashed a guilty smile. "She was just so shaken up about the whole episode."

"I don't blame her."

"Neither do I. Especially after…" Remus nodded. Arthur's near-death experience had left us all shaken. She has a lot to fear—she cares so much for her family. And Harry," I added. "But whatever you did or said, it had a profound effect on her. If it was even possible, I think she is even more impressed by you." There was no way I was going to admit it, but I was impressed, as well. Not that handling a boggart is particularly difficult—it is third year curriculum, after all. Blame the tendency I have to feel like an infatuated schoolgirl around him, but it made Remus seem even more—_brave_.

I fought the slight blush that was threatening my cheeks and ears and mentally chided myself. _That's because it IS a stupid schoolgirl reaction. Act your age, Nymphadora!_

He didn't comment. In fact, he was quiet for quite a while. "You know who really impresses me?"

The serious tone to his question brought me back to my senses. "Who?"

"Harry. Do you know what his boggart is?"

"I couldn't even imagine—there's so much…" I trailed off. I couldn't even fathom the horrors Harry has been through, and at such a young age. The possibilities were endless.

Remus seemed to be reading my mind. "I know. He has so much to fear. But it's a dementor."

I was shocked. "Only a dementor?"

"Only a dementor."

"Wow. I would have bet money it would be Voldemort."

"I know. It surprised me, too. But all he fears is fear." He paused. And then, to my astonishment, he chuckled. "And all I fear is myself. How 'bout you, Tonks? What's your greatest fear?"

I should have known this was coming. I knew how stupid this was going to sound. "Flushing toilets," I murmured.

He snorted with incredulous laughter. "Flushing toilets?"

"Yup. Especially public ones." I lost the fight with the blush and felt mildly embarrassed at his laughter. "The louder they are and the more water pressure they have, the scarier they are. The make me jump every time. I always worry that they're going to overflow or shoot out water or drag me down the drain or something." He was still laughing at me. "I know, I know, it's really stupid. In fact, as a kid, I would open the door to the stall before I flushed and jump away as quick as possible."

Shaking his head, he asked, "And how do you turn something like that into something funny?"

I had to laugh at my own stupidity. Of all the frightening things in this world, I had to pick something incredibly stupid to be afraid of. "I don't have to turn it into something funny," I explained. "After the initial shock, I just laugh at how bloody stupid I am to be afraid of a _toilet_."

We laughed this for a few good minutes. After we regained our composure, he cocked his head towards me and said, "You know Tonks—I love your laughter. It's so loud and free and it echoes off of everything."

"Can't say I hear that much." I laughed some more. "I'm usually told that I'm too loud. But I can't help it; I just love to laugh a lot. I find damn near everything funny."

Before I could internalize the fact that Remus Lupin had just given me a very personal compliment, the laughter died from his lips as he stopped cold in his tracks. His eyes, which had been merry just moments ago, clouded over at the sight in front of him. Concerned, I followed his gaze up the hill to…

The Shrieking Shack.

He began walking up the slight grade with sudden purpose. I had to jog to catch up, slipping and tripping in the snow and nearly falling on my face. I almost ran into him when he stopped at the fence. Altering my course at the last minute, I stopped, breathless, beside him.

"Remus?" I whispered. "What is it?"

For a while, my query went unnoticed. He was distant—in another place and another time. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse. "Do you know what this place is?" Somehow, I had the feeling this question was rhetorical. "I came here every month for seven years to transform," he whispered into the air. I tore my attention away from the notorious house and back to his face at this confession. Sirius had often talked of the boys' hideaway, but never named it. I opened my mouth to say something, but closed it again when nothing came. I simply wrapped my cloak tighter around myself. The air seemed to turn colder all of a sudden.

His low voice broke the silence again, but this time with a steely edge. "Sirius is so lucky I didn't find him before he found Peter."

"Why?"

"I was going to kill him."

"What?"

"I was going to track him down and I was going to kill him."

I could only gape at him in shocked silence.

"Peter made such fools of us all," he growled. The anger in his voice made me turn my head, afraid to look at him. "It was only twelve years later that I was able to piece it together." He paused and took a deep breath.

"We knew that there was a spy in the Order," he explained. Resignation replaced the anger. "We knew someone was passing Voldemort information on the Potters. We knew it for a year. We knew it was someone close to James and Lily. But we couldn't figure out exactly who." His eyes darkened again, but his tone held out. "Peter told me he was convinced it was Sirius. 'After all, Remus, Sirius _is_ James' best friend, who else would know this information? And look at his family!'" he mimicked. "I doubted that Sirius would ever rejoin the Black family legacy, but over time, Peter persuaded me. Meanwhile, he must have been feeding Sirius the same doubts about me. That perhaps the wolf in me had decided to join my dark brothers. He even went so far as to imply that I was looking to get rid of James because I wanted Lily!"

I finally chanced looking over at Remus. He maintained his empty stare at the shack, his back braced against the cold and his hands in his pockets. My head was as empty as his eyes except for the one thought bouncing around: "You were going to kill Sirius?"

I jumped a little when I realized I had said that out loud.

He turned and regarded me thoughtfully. "Nymphadora, why are you fighting this war?"

"Because it's the right thing to do." I was confused. Why was he changing the subject?

"Right and wrong are very subjective choices."

I paused at this. He was right. If you asked me and, say, my Aunt Narcissa how the wizarding world should be run, you'd get very different answers. "I—I guess I don't know, then." My answer only made me feel more young and foolish.

He nodded in understanding and looked away again. "I didn't know at first, either. If you had asked me when I joined the Order, I would have said the same thing. Because it was 'right.' I was seventeen and fresh out of Hogwarts. The next few years would teach me a lot about what was right and what was wrong." His voice hardened and his eyes again clouded over with ghosts.

I waited a bit, waiting for him to continue. "What did you decide on?" I half-whispered when he didn't finish. I was hoping that I wasn't treading on too-sensitive ground.

He turned to me again, and looking me square in the eye, answered, "Family. Faith. Country. Freedom." His sureness crackled through me like electricity. "The Order was my family. And as far as I knew, Sirius had betrayed us all. I had to know why. How. How he could hand his best friend over to a maniac."

"But…kill?"

Remus had finally put one plus one together and chuckled mirthlessly. "Don't expect bloodlust from such a gentlemanly chap like me, do you?" "It's an easy question to ask someone what they'd be willing to die for. It's another question to ask what they'd be willing to kill for."

That had always been a hard question for me. In Auror training, we learned all about necessary force. The optimist in everyone hoped that they'd never be faced with a situation where they'd have to judge just where that fine line was and when they'd have to cross it. But we all knew better. Even Moody, with all of his best intentions, had instances where he couldn't bring the culprit in alive.

My thoughts must have played out on my face, because Remus seemed to know what I was thinking. "There's going to come a day, Tonks, where you'll be face to face with someone, and it's going to be either you or them. You'll make a split decision, and you'll survive. But what makes you different—what maintains your humanity—is that you will mourn for them. Even though their actions were atrocities, even though they would have shown you no mercy, you will weep over their death." I moved my eyes to meet his. "And that is where knowing what you are fighting for will come in. You might forever regret taking someone's life, but you will understand why it was necessary and you will be able to live with your decision."

That's when I finally realized that Remus Lupin had lived a very long life. He had faced discrimination. He had fought battles. He had lost friends. And here he was, risking it all again for a world that was most likely going to reject him once he had saved it. This he did willingly, simply because his principles dictated that it was right.

I, for one, was going to stand with him.

As if to signify this decision, I closed the distance between us and looped my arm through his. "Thank you," I murmured softly. His brow furrowed in curiosity but he did not pull away. Instead, we both watched silently as the sun slowly set over the Shrieking Shack.

**A/N: **Obviously my last chapter before HBP. I really do have this story all planned out, but believe it or not, it just takes me a bit of time to write each chapter. I fully intend on finishing, even if Jo makes it all AU. Thanks again!

**A/N #2: POST HBP** Of course I knew they were going to get together, but one burdened with the Inner Eye does not boast or brag about it, but rather, writes fun little fanfics. And, I'm happy to add, I only have to change my ending _slightly_ to make it fit canon, that's how good I am.


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